Slowdancing in a Burning Room
by 2serendipity
Summary: Elena and Damon. Damon's room. A thunderstorm. They've been dancing, and Elena is ready to take it one step further...   My take on Elena's POV - one-shot spin-off for Shadowdancing.


**AN: ****Okay. Here it is. Finally. The promised spin-off from Shadowdancing, chapter 38, called Seize the Night. It is what it is, I guess. I'm not completely satisfied with it, but I refuse to sit on this any longer. I'll just release this baby into the world, and hope you will like it just a little… **

**Many ****thanks ****to ****my ****awesome ****beta ****Shadowfaxangel, ****and ****to ****Bibi13ca, ****my ****wonderful ****fanfic-friend, ****for ****her ****help ****with ****this. You girls rock!**

**The ****title ****is ****a ****song, ****by ****John ****Mayer ****BTW I thought it was appropriate since this is in fact part of Shadowdancing ;)**

**For those who've already read Shadowdancing: I wouldn't have finished this if it weren't for you, guys, so here's to all of you. I've rewritten the whole thing, so you might want to read it again, as it's now fully from Elena's POV. And hey, it's much longer now. At least I hope that's a good thing… Sorry also for not posting this sooner: I meant to, but fanfiction has been finicky for a few days, not allowing me to post a new story, which explains the delay on this :(**

**For those who haven't read Shadowdancing: I wrote this as a spin-off, because Shadowdancing still is a T-rated story (though one could argue about that sometimes, I guess… ;) If you want to know the rest, you know what to do ;)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>Elena's POV<em>

After Jenna had left with Ric, I decided I needed a shower. I was still restless and edgy, perhaps even more so after my brief, but sexually charged encounter with Damon, and soothing water running down my skin usually helped to relax me. So for the second time in a few hours, I took off my clothes, dropping them in the laundry hamper, and snagged my hair into a messy ponytail to keep it dry.

I put the shower as cold as I could stand, because the oppressive humidity in the air was already making me sweat without any effort at all. Cooling down was definitely on the agenda, for more reasons than one.

Only, when I was standing under the lukewarm spray, the cool water streaming down my body reminded me too much of Damon's cool fingers gliding over my skin for there to be any relaxing effect whatsoever. With a dissatisfied sigh, I reached for the vanilla body wash, and started lathering myself abundantly with it, but even my own soapy hands were turning me on now. I couldn't help but imagine other hands running down my body… magical, knowing hands with long, tapered fingers…

Groaning in frustration, I hurriedly rinsed the soapy suds off my body and turned off the shower. After vigorously drying myself off, I put on a black silky thong and wandered back into my room to pick up my favorite pajamas, a checkered blue and white pair of shorts and a bluish-purple top. Then I tugged the elastic band securing my ponytail out of my hair, and shook my head, hand combing the heavy, mahogany tresses.

I let myself fall down on my bed with a thud, annoyed at myself for the thoughts churning ever more insistently in my head. Why couldn't I have a little more willpower? I remembered all too clearly telling myself I was going to wait until _after_ talking to Stefan before doing anything definite about this uncomfortable situation with Damon, but I was so goddamn tired of fighting the attraction. And what if Caroline was right? What good would it do to wait?

Rolling over onto my stomach, I buried my head in the pillow dejectedly, but I froze when my nose suddenly caught a whiff of something. Why did my pillow smell like _Damon_? My God, I'm really hallucinating now. But then I remembered. He'd been lying back on my pillow earlier, poking fun at me because I'd torn his dress.

After a slight hesitation, I inhaled deeply, trying to catch the lingering, elusive scent once more. His scent alone made images of him tumble over each other in my mind. Just thinking of Damon did all manner of strange things to my insides, impressing on me once again that I was in serious trouble, as if I didn't know that already! I squeezed my legs together as if that might hold off the emptiness inside of me… but of course it didn't, and I sighed in frustration.

I almost jumped out of my skin when a heavy gust of wind made the window fly open and slammed it hard against the wall. I hurried over and closed it again.

Then I just stood there, staring out of the window at the thunderheads obscuring the moon and stars. The night was black as sin save for the occasional flashes of lightning that outlined the skeletal silhouettes of the trees flailing about wildly in the rising wind. Man, how I hate thunderstorms, I thought with a shiver. If this goes on through the night, I'll never get any sleep…

Without consciously making a decision, I shoved my feet in a pair of flip-flops and descended the stairs. Because it was warm enough, I didn't bother to put on anything over my pajamas. When I stuck my head around the corner of the living room, I saw that Jeremy was still playing his videogame. He would most assuredly make a fuss if he saw I was leaving the house in my PJ's, but I was fairly confident that he wouldn't even bother to look up. So I raised my voice to get over the noise of the game and shouted that I was popping over to the boarding house for a while. And just as I'd known he would, he waved a hand in acknowledgement without looking up.

Quickly grabbing my car keys from the table in the hallway, I closed the door and dashed to my car, just as the first drops of rain started falling. As I drove to the boarding house, I had the strangest feeling that the thunderstorm was chasing me, as if it was hurrying me towards Damon like a leaf on the wind. Big, fat raindrops splashed on the windshield, streaking the fine layer of dust that had accumulated there with the long draught.

By the time I arrived at the boarding house, the rain was pouring down, big sheets of it, obscuring my sight. I squinted through the rain-splattered windshield. The boarding house looked dark and quite deserted, and I felt disappointment settle heavily in my stomach. But… wait! There was a little pinprick of light behind one of the windows, and it was in Damon's room! I blew out a relieved breath. It looked as though he'd just retired for the night.

As soon as I opened my car door and got out, the rain hit my face full force. So I hurriedly slammed the car door shut and scurried to the front door, shaking myself like a wet dog as soon as I was inside. God, I was so lucky they never bothered to lock their doors.

I stalled, pensively staring at the closed front door. In fact, everybody just about knew they didn't lock it, so anybody could just wander in. Without further thought, I deliberately shot the heavy bolt home, at the same time locking myself in with Damon and shutting out the rest of the world.

I almost ran upstairs. But when I was actually standing in front of the door to Damon's bedroom, I hesitated, suddenly accosted by doubts. Was I really going to go through with this? My heart was beating in my throat, and my breath was coming fast and shallow. I suddenly felt like a shameless hussy, to come down here with the sole intent of seducing Damon. What if he refused me? Maybe I should have worn something sexy? Oh, suck it up, Elena, and calm down, I told myself sternly. He's going to think you're having a heart attack next!

I was still trying to calm my racing heart when his voice sounded through the door, "Hello, Elena. You can come in, you know. I'm decent this time 'round!" Dammit if he didn't sound amused! So much for thinking he hadn't heard me, huffing and puffing right outside his door!

I pushed open the door with a sheepish look on my face, and saw Damon sitting on the bed, a book all but forgotten in his hand. He was indeed more than decent, wearing his clothes from earlier, his familiar black jeans and his shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Hm, pity he wasn't undressed for bed yet.

I didn't trust my voice not to be totally breathless, so I just walked into his room, and leaned my back into it. It shut behind me with a slight click.

When Damon didn't say anything at first, but just let his eyes travel all the way down and back up again, I started fidgeting, very conscious to the fact that I was just dressed in my pajama shorts and top (oh, yes, and a thong, but there wasn't too much about that of course). Not unexpected, his eyebrows rose, and he remarked, "Cute PJ's, Elena."

Predictably, I felt a blush staining my cheeks, not just because of his comment, but because he had this tendency to strip me bare just by looking at me. It felt like his X-ray eyes could see straight through my skimpy garments. Just to give myself something else to look at besides him (and that huge bed that looked mighty inviting), I looked around.

The room was shrouded in semi-darkness, with just the one lamp on the bedside table lit. But the drapes were open and revealed the stormy night. The inky blackness outside the window was soon ripped apart by the next streak of lightning, eerily illuminating the dark clouds, and this time, it was very close by and clearly visible. The erratic line of the lightning was burned on my retina, and I instinctively wrapped my arms around myself to stop shivering. I really didn't like thunderstorms: those uncontrollable forces of nature always seemed so violent, so out of control, so unstoppable…

"You're not afraid of thunderstorms, are you, Elena?" Damon's voice broke through my thoughts. So much for suppressing the shivers! He'd noticed, of course. My eyes were unblinkingly fixed on him as he slowly put his book down and pushed himself up from the bed.

He had asked a question, hadn't he? I pulled the tatters of my wits together and tried to sound casual when I replied, "Not afraid, exactly. I just don't like them very much." When he stalked closer to me, I pressed myself back against the door, feeling as trapped as a cornered mouse that sees a big cat approaching.

"I love thunderstorms," Damon said, suggestively lifting one eyebrow, "They bring such good memories." Oh, yes, I knew very well what he was talking about! I lowered my eyes and felt another blush coming on at the memory. Dancing in the rain with only the trees standing witness to see wet Damon and soaked-through me in my transparent dress, but most of all, it was the memory of a kiss that was locked in my heart forever.

I hadn't been paying attention. Never a good idea with Damon around, because suddenly he was very close to me, intruding in my personal space. I looked up in surprise and his voice dropped to a lower register, "If you're afraid of the storm, maybe we should take your mind off it? Provide you with a _distraction _of sorts? I'm sure I can find a way."

I'm sure he could, too! It was his bedroom voice, and it was very, very effective, especially combined with the lazy touch of his knuckle trailing down my cheek. Another shiver raced down my spine (only this time it was definitely not caused by the thunderstorm!). The man just didn't fight fair!

I lost myself in his brilliant sapphire eyes that were promising sweet delight. The way he touched me was making it very hard for me not to reciprocate. What the heck! Just go for it, Elena! Seize the night already! I dropped my car keys on the floor right where I was standing, and my voice was so breathless it was almost inaudible, "Dance with me?"

He smiled his sexy, lopsided smile and my heart flip-flopped in my chest. It was no use trying to tell myself that these feelings would go away any time soon. I simply couldn't resist him any longer, nor did I want to.

He walked over to the stereo mounted into the wall and turned it on. A slow, sensual merengue poured from the speakers, the soft, Latin music flooding the room like mist, trapping both of us in its spell and unobtrusively creating a dreamy atmosphere in counterpoint to the raging storm outside.

Damon was barefoot, so I toed off my flip-flops, and took a few hesitant steps away from the door, self-consciously waiting for him to come back to me. He did, but then he stopped right in front of me, as if he wanted me to make the first move.

So I did. I closed the distance between us and twined my arms around his neck, my fingers tangling in his hair. His hands settled on the curve of my waist, not stroking, barely even touching, but still scorching me right through my top. I was very aware of it when his thumbs slipped underneath the hem of my top, pressing into my flesh.

We started dancing, easily adjusting to each other's movements, our hips moving in time with the beat. And the magic happened as time seemed to draw itself out like spun sugar…

The music didn't wholly succeed in drowning out the sound of the thunder. I heard it faintly, rumbling overhead, and the room occasionally lit up with the stroboscopic effect of the lightning, but I didn't care so much now that Damon was here to take my mind off things. I just gazed into his eyes, amazed and excited by the smoldering heat I saw reflected in their unfathomable blue-green depths, and deliberately let myself sink into it.

I felt Damon's arms tighten around me. His hands slipped down to cup my bottom and he pulled me in closer, molding our bodies together from the waist down. While we were swaying rhythmically to the music, he brought one hand up to my face and gently brushed away the single strand of damp hair that was stuck there. His finger lingered, outlining the outer shell of my ear, and then slowly skimmed down to trace my bottom lip.

I couldn't help myself: I opened my mouth to draw his finger inside, and sucked on it gently. After a moment, he pulled it out with a slight popping sound and drew the wet digit across my chin and down my throat. When he blew lightly on the moistened trail, his cool breath provided a startling contrast against my overheated skin. Chills ran down my spine in quick succession and my breath caught in my throat.

I needed more than this teasing! I leaned my upper body slightly backwards, but I kept moving to the music, grinding myself against his now very obvious hardness. When he pushed back, countering my movement, heat started swirling in my stomach and my knees went weak.

Damon closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, as if he wanted to take in every sensation the moment had to offer. A slight smile flashed across his face, gone so quickly that I wondered if I didn't just imagine seeing it, but my heart gave an odd little skip all the same.

I let my hands glide down from his shoulders to his firm chest, and started unbuttoning his shirt, one slow button at a time, placing an openmouthed, wet kiss to every bit of skin that was bared to me. God, but he was perfection made flesh.

I was getting really in the mood when Damon suddenly stilled. He opened his eyes, and I could tell from the iron set of his jaw that he was struggling with something. Please, don't let him go all noble and refuse me, because that would majorly suck, and not in a good way…

My heart plummeted when he said, "Wait. Brief pause."

He put a finger under my chin and tilted my face up. It was hard, but I kept my eyes locked on his when he asked, "Elena, are you sure about this?"

Look at me, I thought. Can't you see that I'm serious about this? I wanted to make him understand how much this meant to me, and my voice sounded husky as I replied, "_Yes_. I'm sure. I want you, Damon. I know you want to hear more than that, but I'm not at liberty to tell you more, not until I've talked to… um…"

_Stefan_. I really didn't want to be thinking about him right now. The reminder of the Talk I'd need to have with Stefan made me wince, but I ruthlessly suppressed the unwelcome twinge of conscience. There was a time and a place for that, and this was definitely not it.

Of course, Damon was being stubborn, "Then shouldn't you be doing the talking thing first?"

I swear I saw a flash of fear, of something very much like vulnerability, in his eyes. I cringed inside, knowing he had every reason to distrust me. He probably thought I was just doing this on the spur of the moment, and that I would no doubt regret it later.

My eyes fell on his shirt, already partway undone, and I walked my fingers down the part of his chest that I'd already uncovered. Then I forced my eyes back up and said with as much honesty as I could muster, "Maybe I should, but… I've been fighting you and myself for so long now! I can_'_t fight it any longer, and to be honest, I don't want to."

I could only show him how much I wanted this. I pressed my body flush against his and gripped the lapels of his shirt tightly. I know my voice was almost pleading, but I didn't give a damn, "What I do want - more than anything - is to make love to you. Can't that be enough for now?"

He hesitated, "Yes. But-"

I saw him wavering, so I lifted a finger to his lips to silence him, and whispered, "Sssh. Remember time out? For now, there's just you and me. Noregrets. Okay?"

That did it. Damon gave in with a low groan of surrender that I felt all the way down to my toes. He drew me against him, firmly wrapping one arm around my waist. His other hand enmeshed itself in my hair, tilting my head at the perfect angle for kissing. I melted against him with a tiny sound of satisfaction.

His mouth captured my lips in a searing hot kiss that held nothing back. It was shockingly carnal, but surprisingly intimate at the same time. I didn't care that his lips were bruising mine, because he was kissing me with the same intensity that he did everything else, leaving me utterly breathless. Gone was the dreamy, slow exploration from before; now there was just urgency and overwhelming, burning need.

Suddenly nothing was more necessary to me than feeling his body under my hands, preferably with no clothes to separate us. I was still clutching the lapels of his shirt, so I just ripped it the rest of the way open, sending the buttons flying before I shoved it off his shoulders. He shrugged out of it without breaking the kiss. Unhindered by textile, my hands feverishly roamed his bare chest. I could feel the raw strength contained in his powerful body, and it made me weak with desire.

Damon's mouth moved away from my lips, and I let my head fall back to give him better access to my very vulnerable throat without second thought. He kissed his way down, his mouth unexpectedly hot. I'm sure he could feel my pulse thrumming crazily, but he seemed fully in control this time. Then his thumbs brushed the side of my breasts through the thin material of my top, and I was the one who was fast losing control.

He drew a fiery trail across my flesh, and my breathing turned shallow and erratic. My fingers fumbled clumsily with his belt buckle and I slowly started backing away towards the bed, pulling him along with me.

Damon chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against my skin. He murmured, "A little impatient, are we?"

I backed away another step and bumped into one of the posters of his bed. My voice didn't sound all that firm when I whimpered, "Yes! I've been waiting long enough."

"But I want to take this slow," Damon pouted adorably.

His fingertips ghosted across my skin, feather light touches down my arms and up again, to my collarbone and down my back. He purred in a deep voice that seemed to resonate low in my belly, "I want to kiss every inch of your delectable skin. I want to taste you all over until you beg me for mercy."

"_Damon_!" My voice was trembling. His almost-touch and the visuals I got from his words made me blush and quiver at the same time, "Stop talking! Or I will make you stop!"

Damon was clearly amused by my obvious impatience, repeating my own words from earlier that night, "You and whose army?"

So, he was going to be cheeky, was he? The impertinence! Well, two could play that game, I thought, raising an eyebrow in mock imitation of him. When I gave him a wicked smile, his eyes widened a little. Deliberately, I put my hands to his belt buckle again, not messing around this time. I got it open too; who cared if my hands were shaking a little? I slowly pulled down the zipper.

When I freed him from his confining jeans and took his hard length in my hand, Damon's breath left him in a hiss, his eyes suddenly a few shades darker. I shivered with the heady knowledge that I had this kind of power over him.

So I ran the tip of my tongue over my lips and whispered mischievously, "I just knew you'd be going commando!"

The look he gave me in response burned a hole right through me, all the way to my soul.

I had the feeling he didn't want to go slow after that, because he hooked a hand into the flimsy material of my top and just tore it down the front. The ripped fabric fell away, baring me to his heated gaze.

With a throaty growl, he picked me up as if I weighed nothing more than a feather and tossed me onto the bed. I landed with a little bounce, and it made me giggle, because I could totally picture him pouncing on me like the predator I'd so often compared him to.

But he didn't pounce. He just stood there, looking down at me with hooded eyes, as if he was memorizing every outline, every groove and every muscle of my body. His eyes felt like a physical caress on my naked skin and I started trembling, little tremors that racked my whole body. My breath was rasping through my throat as if I'd run a mile and he wasn't even touching me!

His heated gaze was fixed on my breasts, and I couldn't help the reactions of my own body. My nipples pebbled as if he was actually touching me, and I felt myself growing slick between my legs. How could he affect me like this? If he kept looking at me like that, it was going to be over before we even got started, so I reached out for him, begging him wordlessly to join me.

Before I could blink, his weight was pushing me down into the mattress, but I welcomed it eagerly, wrapping my arms around his lean waist. His hands cradled my head and his lips found mine, and then he was kissing me as if he wanted to kiss all the breath out of my body. The emotion I felt in each and every one of his moves made me want to cry. His tongue kept stroking mine as if he was making love to it, and I responded greedily, arching my body into his, craving the sensation of skin on skin.

When we broke apart, I was gasping for air, and his mouth moved on, lips caressing my earlobe, pausing to dip his tongue in the hollow at the base of my throat. He nibbled on my jaw and my collarbone, and nuzzled through the valley between my breasts… and suddenly it hit me that he wasn't just picking those places randomly. He was kissing me as if it was something he'd thought about, and that was an incredibleturn-on. It meant that I wasn't the only one who'd been indulging in a bit of naughty daydreaming.

When his thumb flicked over my nipple, I whimpered because it was so sensitive. My fingers burrowed into his shoulders as he focused his complete attention on my breasts. He palmed them as if weighing them in his hands, and pushed them together, all the while licking and teasing, but avoiding the peaked tips until I almost couldn't stand the anticipation. Only then did his blunt teeth graze my nipple, and he drew it into his mouth to suckle it, while his hand was thumbing the other one. The sensation shot straight down to my core, and I had to bite my bottom lip to keep from crying out.

He looked up at me then and I swear there was a cocky gleam in his eyes as he assessed my flushed state. My hand drifted to his chest, finding one of his flat nipples. When I lightly scratched the little nub, it went hard and he groaned.

His eyes had bled almost to black, with just a little rim around the iris a brilliant sapphire blue. He pushed my hand away from his chest, and I moaned in frustration, but soon my hands were wandering his back. I raked my nails over tense, muscle-corded skin, pressed my fingertips almost bruisingly hard into unyielding sinew and bone. His body was like skin-encased steel: there was no softness anywhere, except for the velvet of his skin and his soft lips.

Those lips were working their way down my body, and I was squirming and breathing hard by the time he reached the waistband of my shorts. He hooked two fingers under it, and gave a little tug, sliding them free slowly. His hands took my shorts with them as they smoothed further down my body, brushing the soft skin behind my knees, stroking down to my ankle.

As I was lying there, naked except for my tiny, black thong, I realized that he was shaking, almost imperceptible tremors that I felt under my hands. I opened my mouth to tell him that it was all right, that I wanted this _so_ very much. That there had never been anything I'd been more sure of. That I loved him...

But his tongue was drawing a line of liquid fire right above the little black bow on my thong, and I couldn't manage anything more than a low sound deep in my throat as he slowly pressed my thighs apart. The rush of air on my soaked panties made me realize that he must be drowning in the scent of my arousal about now, because I'd never been more aroused in my life.

The soft coolness of his hair tickled my belly, and his warm mouth latched onto the small scrap of black silk between my legs, his tongue teasing me through the flimsy material. I felt every sensual lick, but the barrier of fabric was slowly driving me crazy. I arched my back, begging for closer contact. My teeth sank in my lower lip. When I couldn't stand it any longer, I finally gasped out his name on a sob, "Damon, _please_!"

He looked up with a smile and said, "Patience, Elena! You do know that patience is a virtue, right?"

"_Argh_! You're seriously talking about virtue now_?_" I groused. And then I didn't care anymore, because he pulled the wet silk away, sliding it down my legs.

I sank my hands into his hair, trying to direct him to where I wanted him most. But he ignored me to kiss the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. His cool breath on my throbbing, wet core was a most exquisite form of torture, because he was so close, but it was nowhere close enough.

I moaned in relief when his mouth dropped that final inch. A firm, wet tongue circled my slick pussy, exploring my folds with soft licks that became more demanding as he discovered what I needed. He was lapping up my juices like it was his own personal drug, and my brain was simply stuck on repeat, Oh, _God_! Yes, there! More!

He took his cue from my gasps and shivers, and very soon I felt like I was going up in flames, melting from the inside out. When he raised my legs over his shoulders and slipped one finger inside of me, I almost came off the bed. My hands scrabbled for purchase in the sheets, and I gripped them so firmly that my knuckles turned white.

His mouth deviously left me for a moment, and I whined in protest, pushing up my hips in desperation. But then he came back, and I couldn't think at all anymore as he steadily increased the pace. His tongue was all wet, silky heat as it flicked against my sensitive bundle of nerves; his finger was moving inside me, faster now. I was sobbing, whimpering, moaning; I didn't even recognize the noises I made, because I'd never been so loud when making love.

And then he curled his finger inside of me, stroking my sweet spot just once, and my body imploded. I could only choke out his name, and he groaned in reply. A warm rush of pleasure flooded me, and I was shaking, an uncontrollable shudder of response that expanded through my body like ripples on a pond. Mercilessly he sucked me deeper, his arm pinning my hips down onto the mattress, allowing me to ride out the waves of ecstasy that were crashing over me.

Blissful minutes later I was still panting, and he released me to crawl up my boneless body, his breathing ragged. He kissed me, hot and hard and desperate, and I tasted myself on his lips. I pushed his jeans past his hips, and he pulled away for a moment to shed them.

I wrapped a trembling hand around his length, at the same time silky-smooth and rock-hard, just like everything else about him. He was hot, heavy and quite impressive, and I knew it would be a tight fit, but I craved the almost painful friction like nothing else. My fingers curled around him and I stroked him experimentally up and down. He thwarted me by flipping us over in a flash, so that he was on his back on the bed, and I was on top, straddling his hips.

"Since you waited such a long time for this," He grabbed my ass and positioned me over him, murmuring, "Do you want to be on top? Have your wicked way with me?" He bucked his hips and rubbed against me intimately, making my apparently insatiable body stir yet again.

But he had taken his sweet time teasing me, and now it was my turn. "You bet," I said, bending down slowly to rub my breasts against his chest, "You know how I love to be on top of things…"

My hair tumbled down, a spill of heavy auburn waves that closed us off from the world and from the raging storm outside of the window. I kissed him languidly, sucking his bottom lip, but when he raised his head to kiss me back, I put one hand to his chest and pushed him down playfully, "Nuh uh! Down, boy!"

"Down? Not gonna happen," He said with a wink, moving his hands to my butt and grinding his erection against my traitorous body. I moaned in his ear, and scraped my teeth over his artery, right where a vampire would bite. When I gave him a little nip, flattening my tongue to lick at the slight mark on his throat before it healed, he exhaled audibly. His hands tightened on my waist, one hand gliding upwards to cup my breast, his thumb flicking over the peak. It was my turn to gasp.

I pushed myself back so I was sitting on his thighs. My hand slid down his flat stomach and I closed my fingers around his rigid cock again, teasingly running my thumb over the moist tip. He leaped in my hand, astonishingly growing even bigger, so I did it again. He growled softly, and before I knew what was happening, he'd flipped us over again, fitting himself between my spread legs.

I pouted and complained, "You're not playing fair, Damon!"

He was poised over me, the head of his erection right at my body's entrance. "All's fair in love and war, sweetheart," he said hoarsely, "I want to be inside you real bad, and if you tease me any longer, I won't be able to go slow…"

"Who says we have to go slow?" I replied with a wiggle that made him grit his teeth. His eyes were shooting blue fire and just the look of him, all that power kept on a tight leash, brought a new rush of heat to my loins.

"I don't mean to belittle anyone," he ground out, his voice raspy, "But you're kind of tight, Elena, and I don't want to hurt you."

"Oh, aren't you the cocky one," I started to say, but before I could complete my thought, Damon pressed forward, pushing just the tip of his cock inside of me, and my words died in a low moan. His hand slipped in between our bodies, and his thumb started rubbing me in lazy circles. I lifted my hips, wanting more, wanting all of him, right now, but he insisted on his infuriatingly slow invasion.

"Patience, my love; or this will hurt you," he was breathing heavily, struggling for control as he inched forward, stretching me deliciously, but agonizingly slowly. The friction was maddening and I just couldn't take it anymore: he was being so careful when I craved the whole searing length of him inside of me desperately.

"Let it hurt! I'm all out of patience," I retorted, offering him my mouth, begging for a kiss. When he complied and kissed me deeply, I wrapped my legs around him, trying to pull him further into my body. He got the message and pushed, sheathing himself into my wet warmth in a single thrust, with a low, vulnerable sound that almost sent me over the edge then and there. I gasped at the sudden fullness; he was stretching me to the limit, but it was just… perfection.

He echoed my thoughts, whispering in my ear, "God, _Elena_! You're amazing, so wet for me, so tight. You're simply perfect…"

My voice failed me when I saw the emotions reflected in his crystal blue eyes: never before had anyone looked at me like that, like I was truly a part of his soul. Tears spilled from my eyes, blurring my vision, because I knew I had finally done the right thing.

And then he started moving, a wet, hot slide in and out, and redefined my idea of perfection. I squeezed my eyes shut as I gave myself over to his compelling rhythm, straining against him, panting and clawing at his back as he drove himself into me.

One of his hands was next to my head, and I held onto it, our fingers intertwining. I think my nails were digging into his skin, but he didn't seem to mind. He slipped the other hand under my ass, lifting me closer, and slightly altered the angle of his thrusts. Gasps and sobs tore from my throat as he hit me exactly _there_, brushing against my swollen nub at the same time. He was turning me inside out: the burn was exquisite, the pleasure almost painful in its intensity, a passionate onslaught without mercy.

"Look at me, my love," Damon's voice was taut as he drove up the tempo even more, pounding into me relentlessly. My eyes snapped open as I felt myself unraveling, my world spinning out of control. I cried out, "Oh, _God. _Damon, _now_!" He grunted and thrust deep one more time.

Release slammed into me, ecstasy tearing through me like chain lightning. Endless convulsions overtook my body as I climaxed, pushing him over the edge right along with me. I clung to him, my arms holding him close as he shuddered with the force of his own release, my name on his lips just like his was on mine.

The thunderstorm raged on and spent itself. But neither of us noticed a thing…

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And so, that was the missing scene from Elena's POV. I hope you like it... Smut isn't my forte, but you deserved some action after all of my teasing in Shadowdancing ;) Please let me know what you thought, but be gentle... You know my muse is a fragile little thing...<strong>


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